


Blood and Loss

by VesselOfLucifer (FayTheGay)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dark, Dark Sam Winchester, references to unrequited Sabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayTheGay/pseuds/VesselOfLucifer
Summary: Everything was buzzing in his bones as he was forced away from the luxurious hotel that he had been enjoying himself in. Summoning. Someone had forcibly summoned him. But who- a shudder rippled down his spine as a ward kicked to life in the room and he whipped around, trying- and failing- to rise to his feet.





	Blood and Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Some Dark!Sam as a birthday present from me to me. Hehe.

Everything was buzzing in his bones as he was forced away from the luxurious hotel that he had been enjoying himself in. Summoning. Someone had forcibly summoned him. But who- a shudder rippled down his spine as a ward kicked to life in the room and he whipped around, trying- and failing- to rise to his feet.

 _Shit_.

“Gabriel.” His voice was smooth as silk and Gabriel’s heart sank as realization dawned on him.

Sam.

Sam was standing there and they were… in a warehouse. A familiar one and _ah, hell_. That wasn’t the biggest problem, it wasn’t the most disturbing thing about the situation, it was the dark pulsating aura around him.

It was the telltale sign of the demon blood pumping through his veins.

Snorting, Gabriel lifted his eyes to meet black tinted hazel eyes.

“Wrong Archangel, eh, Sammy? How about you let me-”

“Not the wrong Archangel.” In a fluid motion Sam dropped down in front of him, grabbing him by his chin and Gabriel tried to jolt away, the wards holding him firmly in place. “ _Gabriel_.”

“Yeah, that’s my name.” He responded, grinding his teeth together. This was bad. This situation was devastatingly _bad_ and he was paralyzed. Whatever Sam wanted, it wasn’t good. It couldn’t be. “How about we don’t wear it out and let me go?”

“Now why would I do that after spending a week hunting down a way to summon you?” Sam asked almost conversationally, though it was definitely anything but. The hunter’s eyes were full of intent and it wasn’t hard for him to guess why Sam had forced him there.

“Because you’re Sam Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, and you’ve let me go before.”

“That was before.” Sam breathed out and Gabriel flinched when he heard the clicking of a pocket knife. “You never told us you were an angel.”

“Duh.” Gabriel shifted slightly as Sam finally released his face, moving back enough to give Gabriel a full look at the pocket knife that the hunter was holding. It was modified though, the blade carefully coated in a fine layer of angel steel that definitely couldn’t kill him but could absolutely hurt him. Leave injuries that would scar his vessel if he didn’t get to heal them quickly. “Witness protection, or did that part of your memory get lost when you got back on the black stuff?”

“Demon blood isn’t black.” Sam remarked, completely ignoring the other part of his statement.

“What am I doing here, Sam?” He slumped against the wards, head falling forward in what could have been seen as him giving in. He needed a way out, because he _knew_ what Sam was doing. It wasn’t hard to piece together and trying to stop him would be the real challenge. Only God knew what might happen if Sam went through with this... only God didn’t care and they were alone and _ah_ _hell._

_'Castiel, if you can hear me get your feathery ass to where the nitwits outted me. I’ve got gigantor about to chug down a gallon of Archangel blood and it ain’t going to be pretty.’_

“Have you called him yet?” Sam asked, blade cutting into his neck and causing him to jolt away at the sudden sharp pain. Not that he moved far, the wards bearing down on him almost painfully as the blood trickled from his neck, a glance to the side confirmed that Sam was letting the blood pour into a cup. It was some cheap piece of plastic that probably didn’t cost more than five bucks but it was definitely solid enough to hold the warm liquid in it. “I know you did, or that you will, but Castiel’s wings are broken and Dean’s on the other side of the country. He won’t get here soon enough.”

“I’ve seen you both do the impossible. What do you even think my blood will do? You’ve got demon blood in you, kiddo. Your whole system's flooded, your soul’s bleeding blackness. You really think angel blood's a smart approach? It could smite you.”

“The fact that you’re warning me makes me believe you know it won’t.”

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you? Except if you die and Luci catches wind guess where he ends up. Right here! And guess who I don’t fucking want to see!”

“If it smites me, it’ll fry my soul. Lucifer won’t have a vessel to ride, and Dean'll show up sooner or later to either kill you or let you go. I see no negative consequences.” Gabriel wanted to strangle the hunter because _damn it_. This was not…

“I don’t want to watch you die, damn it!”

“What do you care?” Sam reappeared in his vision. Those tainted hazel eyes meet his yet again and Gabriel glared into them.

“I _don’t._ I mean- fuck, I _do_. Please, Sam. Please don’t do this. You won’t- you can’t come back from this. It will _destroy_ you.”

“I don’t care.” Sam responded after a moment of far too close analyzing. Like Sam could read through his walls, see what was going through his head.

“What happened to you? Last I saw you were _fine_. What happened that caused you to fall off the damned wagon?”

“Famine.” Suddenly things made a _lot_ more sense and Gabriel knew, he _knew_ there was nothing he could do. Even if the hunters had managed to steal his ring like they had War, the lingering effects wouldn’t just disappear. Maybe the other effects but addictions as deep as this demon blood…

“You need to fight it, Sam.” _Hunger._ “I know you can. You’re smart enough, strong enough, you just have to have the _will_ to stop it.”

“Did you consider for a moment that maybe I don’t want to?” Sam asked him seriously and Gabriel swallowed, staring at the concrete floor. Because it was a fact he was trying to ignore. An idea that he didn’t want to breach. “Maybe I enjoy this, the openness, the freedom. I am _me._ ”

“That isn’t who you are-”

“You saw what I did during Mystery Spot, you saw me make the same mistake again. Don’t pretend it isn’t who I am.” Images of Sam going for the demon blood all those years flashed across his vision, succumbing to dark temptations a first time and with little regret to the concequenses.

“Who you are is defined by your choices and when the time came- you were desperate. You aren’t some idiot junkie. You’re _Sam Winchester._ ”

“The vessel to the Devil.” Sam snorted and dropped down in front of him, wrapping his fingers around his jaw and lifting his head to where they met face to face. “What was it? The Boy King?”

“Don’t do this-”

“I thought about it, I considered for a long time what might happen if I took my 'throne'. Then Dean died. Man, was that a thrower too. Why did I ever think I could save him? He didn’t want to be saved. He was dead the moment he kissed that demon whore.”

There were two options left. The first was he could argue, Father knew he could argue. The second was simpler.

The second involved surrendering himself. Gabriel _knew_ he could surrender his will to the hunter. It was simple, really. The repercussions would be the same in the long run since all signs were pointing at Sam refusing to let him go.

Famine was a bastard and whatever was lingering from the encounter would stick unless they could detox him.

_'Castiel, please.’_

“What if it kills you, Sam?” Gabriel tried, desperate, pleading as he held the hunter’s hazel gaze in his own, “What if you die?”

“Then it’s my own fuck up.” Taking a deep breath, he made his choice. There wasn’t another chance.

“Then drink it.” Gabriel stared at the man, long and hard, “I _dare you._ ”

“You sound confident. Unfortunately for you, I can see right through your crap.”

There was a moment of silence before Sam released him, leaning back and giving him the full sight as the cup of his blood was tilted back, poured through his parted lips.

Gabriel swallowed.

There was no bright flash or sudden surge of power within the Winchester’s veins, not a single sign of what had changed.

Nothing but the dim glow of grace that flickered within his black tinted eyes.

It didn’t kill him.

Part of Gabriel wished it had, because if one try hadn’t been enough and it hadn’t killed him?

The solution was simple.

“I need more.” Sam said, plain and whole, and Gabriel shuddered at the prospect because _no_. This wasn’t what he’d ever envisioned. Never once had he considered this was where he would end up. Maybe on one of his brothers' blades, but never a damned blood bank for a _Winchester._ The only hope he could hang onto was his prayers, the idea that Castiel and Dean Winchester would save his sorry ass.

A mess he wouldn’t have been in in the _first place_ if Castiel hadn’t shown up during his TV Land prank.

“Or it’s pointless.” Gabriel pressed, shifting against the warding again and pressing outwards, using his pagan magic rather than Grace this time around. “Your system’s chock full of demon blood, Sammy.”

“Soon it’ll be angel blood.”

He was so matter of fact and for a second Gabriel wondered- was this just Famine's influence?

Gabriel wasn’t blind to the horsemen’s movements, it was basically part of Archangel 101. The horsemen traveled the world all the time. But it had been a few weeks since Sam had broken free of that influence.

Even more importantly, that shouldn’t have been the vice it targeted in the youngest Hunter. It was strong, sure. But it was obscure.

 _Unless he was still on it when they got there_.

“I can see it burning away at you, Sam.” He lied, statement firm and harsh. “You might not feel it yet, but I _feel_ it and you’re going to die. The more you take, the worse it’s going to affect you. It will kill you.”

“Then I’ll die, but not before you watch me burn up from the inside out.” The hunter’s grip tightened painfully and he glared, spitting in the hunter’s face. “It’s going to break your heart, aren’t I?”

“You have _no idea_ what you’re talking about, Sammy. That’s some ego, there. You think, what? That I’m madly in love with your little ass. That’s adorable.”

“I never said that.”

“No, and maybe you’ve got your mind all locked up firm and tight but the implications are there and it’s so damned _stupid_. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have had a nice roll in the hay with you in the past, but that’s about as far as it goes.”

“Whatever you say, Gabriel.” The blade dug into his neck again and he ground his teeth together.

It went on for hours and Gabriel felt himself paling, the blood in his Vessel not being replenished nearly fast enough to recover from the immense amount being taken. It was a painful and exhausting process that ultimately ended with Sam’s eyes glowing a faint blue, his own Grace supply diminished drastically. There was a point pretty early on that he’d realized compliance wasn’t going to help, but ego had kept him from begging the one person that could stop this for help.

Maybe it was something else.

“I’m going to overtake Hell.” Sam mused, licking the blood from the blade he’d been using with a thoughtful look on his expression, “I can kill Lucifer now.”

“Do whatever you want.” Gabriel breathed deeply from where he was physically laying on the ground, too weak to kneel anymore. “But a bit of angel blood doesn’t suddenly make you stronger than Lucifer. He’ll rip you apart.”

“He needs me alive.” Sam countered, far too confident.

 _Screw it_.

_‘Heya, Lucifer. Been a while, bro. Kinda down in the dirt here, need some help if you’re up for it. Not gonna beg, but you’re gonna love this one.’_

“Maybe he does, Sammy. Thing is… self-preservation is kinda one of his things. If you pose a real threat? He’s not going to keep you alive.”

“I guess we’ll see.” Sam mused as wings fluttered, soft and gentle against his senses and he shuddered against the sound, the cool breeze that came with his arrival.

“I have to say. This isn’t what I expected when my brother called to me.” Sam jolted at the icy tone in Lucifer’s voice, as the Archangel stepped between them. The sight of his brother wasn’t what he’d expected, the amount of his own grace depletion keeping him from being able to see his brother’s True Form.

“Lucifer.”

“Oh, Sam. What did you do to yourself?”

“I did what I needed to.”

“You’ve marred yourself.”

“I-“

“I’m going to kill you, then I’ll put you back together. It won’t be pretty and neither will the things that will follow. _Nobody_ dicks with my brothers but _me_.” Which was not at all comforting, but it was better than the alternative.

A sharp sound resounded through the air, a snap of fingers that was met with deafening silence.

“You can’t smite me.”

“Oh, Sam. I don’t need to smite you.” Gabriel breathed deeply as he recognized the sensation of the wards diminishing, the freedom from the wards that Lucifer must have broken for him. “I’m going to kill you, sure. But I don’t waste Grace on killing humans. Not when I can do this.” Gabriel crawled back and watched on weakly as Sam and Lucifer brawled it out, kicking and punching in a surprisingly even battle.

Or maybe not surprising.

At some point Lucifer wound up with his Archangel blade, several of the blows ending with knife and blade cutting through flesh and lighting the room with flashes and Sparks of Grace. On some level, he knew he should have stepped in and helped.

Or tried to.

But his body ached violently and he was still weak as all hell from the exposure. So he ended up watching, the fight was nowhere near as intense as it could have been and in the long run he knew he had been right.

Sam didn’t stand a chance.

So, after everything, everything seemed to freeze when Sam caught the hilt of Lucifer’s blade and twisted it around.

As the end of Lucifer’s blade struck him in the heart.

 _Lucifer._ Some sort of strangled sound tore from his throat as he stared at the ash on the floor, the corpse of his big brother.

“I win.” Sam mused and Gabriel couldn’t help but stare in horror at Sam Winchester, The Boy With the Demon Blood, the new King of Hell.

There was no running on his part, just a long stretch of silence as he prayed desperately to Castiel one last time.

“Now,” Sam knelt before him, “I think it’s time we dealt with the other ones. Michael, Raphael. What do you think?”

Like his opinion mattered.

“But first…” A cry tore from his throat as a blade pierced his heart, ending it all.

His heart broken in every way possible.

It was over.


End file.
